A few minutes ago
Now where on Equestria could all of my friends and family be hiding? I swear, this mansion has more chambers than a deluxe henhouse. I'd get lost just living here, give me something small and cosy any day over this kind of oversized museum.
Still, each to their own. If Crownie wants to wake up in pointlessly huge ornate surroundings every day for the rest of her privileged life, so be it. Personally, I can't help but think how many homeless ponies I know that'd appreciate just one of these gigantic rooms, but that's just my humble opinion.
Just look at all these tacky trinkets, as well. A feather duster made out of griffon plumage, an ivory backscratcher... a hollowed-out dragon egg?! Who even needs all this stuff? Give me some used milk bottles and a ball to play skittles with, or just an old jug to blow a nice tune into. That'll keep me happy, anything else is just shameless extravagance.
But hello, what do we have here? There's a picture of the filly I came with on the mantelpiece, but she looks very different. Sort of meaner, and much angrier. Must've been bad lighting when that was taken. Oh well, at least she avoided the dreaded 'red eye' effect.
Wh-who's this?! There's another photo nearby, of a proud brown stallion with a flowing black mane. He sort of reminds me of somepony else I know... but, nah! The one I'm thinking of is much younger, and he would have never worn such a stupid tie.
Besides, I have no idea who that fancy mare is with him. Just look at all that make-up she's got on, and there must be every hair product ever made in her starchy mane! And because I was raised right, I won't even comment on her nose. What a poor, unfortunate...
...W-W-Wait a second. T-T-That cutie mark, it's almost e-e-exactly... a-a-and those eyes... a-a-and a scar in the same place on her neck, f-f-from that time I fell off the m-m-milking s-s-stool...
I-I-t can't be real. I-I-It isn't. All I have to do is take a peek in that giant mirror up there, and we'll soon see the t-t-trut...
AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!
........................................................................
Back to the present
"...So you see Daddy and er, Randolph, that's exactly what happened. I knew my first soccer match ever was going to be a cherished memory when I scored the opening goal, but I didn't know it'd cause Mother to lose her own memory at the same time! She keeps saying she's this 'Spoiled Milk' character, who talks really funny and seems to have worked on some kind of dairy farm. I have no idea where this weird delusion came from, but for it to be triggered after she hit her head, it must've originated from somewhere inside her. Daddy, do you have any idea where this new personality could've appeared, and what we can do to fix Mother?"
Diamond had been speaking for some time and length regarding the bizarre chain of events that afternoon, and was now starting to get a little croaky. After taking a swig from a nearby tumbler of water, she cast a side glance at her still comatose mum twitching slightly in the midst of her slumber, before turning expectantly to Randolph and Filthy.
With one old stallion having spent so many years accruing knowledge in service, and the other a smart business pony with numerous diplomas, surely one of them could devise a plan to deal with this unusual problem. Diamond waited with excitement for the solution to present itself, an broadly optimistic smile on her face. The sooner things returned to glorious, underrated normality, the happier she'd be.
Instead of instant gratification, what the pink filly got instead was something a little more chilling. For the first time ever, she actually saw the terminally deadpan Randolph gasp in shock, before the aged servant spun around at breakneck speed to gaze apprehensively at his master.
In direct contrast to his suddenly nervous butler, Filthy Rich's visage was a model of serenity as he slowly ascended from his favourite armchair, which he'd been brooding in ever since Diamond began the grand retelling of her action-packed schoolday. Navigating his way over to the crackling fireplace, he silently picked up the framed image of him and his wife on their recent tenth anniversary standing just above it...
...The very same one which'd just caused her to take yet another dirt nap on the floor (before being moved to the nearby sofa, naturally).
"I never told you about how me and your mother met, did I?" The wistful stallion said with a long sigh, while tracing the contours of Spoiled's face in the picture. "It was a very unusual set of circumstances, to put it bluntly. Maybe, you could even call it destiny. I suppose we were waiting until you got a bit older, before we gave you the whole tale. Perhaps it might've made a nice speech on your wedding day, or something. We all could've had a good laugh about it, and then moved on with our lives. Yes, that would've been perfect..."
"Daddy! What has this got to do with Mother getting hurt and thinking that she's somepony else?!" Diamond was beginning to get a little agitated at from her perspective, Filthy's irrelevant chatter, and attempted once more to receive a straight answer from the stallion. "I'm sure I'd love to hear the history of you and mum becoming a couple. Heck, you can even bring out the old photo album, and we can make an evening of it if you like! But right now, don't you think it's a little more important to restore her to who she was, and call in some doctors who can get rid of this strange new identity of hers once and for..."
"It's not a 'new identity'!!" Filthy suddenly put down the photograph and threw his nearby glass of cider into the fire, which had the dual effect of causing the flames to rise momentarily and making Diamond sit back down again pretty sharpish. "The way you just described how she was after the accident earlier, it sounds exactly the way Spoiled Milk was when I first met her all that time ago. Those were very different days, for me and her. Both of us made plenty of mistakes back then, and what I've just heard from you has bought back lots of old memories for me: Some good, some bad. This is a lot to take in all at once."
"W-Wait just a darn minute." Hanging around Apple Bloom a lot had obviously rubbed off a bit on a dumbfounded Diamond, but she wasn't bothered about that right now. "D-Do you mean to tell me, that the innocent, childish rube I've been hanging out with since second recess, is how my mother used to be?! W-What, h-how, w-why..."
"I can understand your confusion, darling." Filthy had apparently calmed down a little now from his previous state of tension, although he still had an uneasy frown on his forehead. "The difference between your mother now and back in the day is more than startling, it's like two different sides of the same coin. I can't really explain it all at this specific moment, but let's just say things sort of happened, which caused quite a shift in her temperament. I also fear her attitude may have negatively impacted you too, at some stage. If only I could've done more to stop the cycle from spreading."
"W-Well yes, maybe that's true, and we can discuss it at the next family meeting." Diamond's overflowing brain was occupied enough, without having to dredge up the past on how her own behaviour could've been influenced by Spoiled Rich's misdoings. "B-But right now, as interesting as this all is, can't you see that mother has a bad head wound, and needs help immediately? Can't you call somepony, who can take a good look at her and give a proper diagnosis? While they're down here, I might have a word with them too. I know I'm starting to feel a bit woozy, with all of this new information I'm hearing today."
For the first time since finding out about his wife's injury, Filthy showed off the faintest of smiles. "Of course, darling. As I've already mentioned, I have a big meeting tomorrow with the head honchos of Appleloosa, but as of now this takes top priority. Randolph, if you could, please carry a message to Mrs Band Aid two doors down that we need to see her husband pronto, and tell him to bring his full kit. One of the benefits of living in an affluent neighbourhood is that all the best trained medical people live nearby, you see. Don't worry sweetheart, we'll soon get this sorted. You have my word..."
It was just as Diamond began feeling a little more hopeful about the current situation after her father's firm reassurances, even to the extent that she was considering taking a shower to cool herself down and wipe off some of that excess dirt left over from sport practice, that it happened.
Out of nowhere, Spoiled Milk sprung up like a daisy on the settee, took one look at the cast of strangers in the room, shifted her gaze back to her hated reflection in the centre mirror...
...Before once again doing her best impression of a petrified banshee, while covering up her pointed muzzle and rushing straight out of the front door at a speed the Wonderbolts might decide was excessive, before anypony else could stop her...
...Tearing her prohibitively expensive blue dress off along the way. Ripping it into two perfect halves, as it happens.
There then followed a brief few seconds of utter bewilderment, before Diamond and Filthy regained enough presence of mind to chase after her.
This was bad news for poor old Randolph, who having already been barged over by the streaking lady of the house as she left the property, found himself prostrate on the floor once more as his master and the young ward quickly followed in giving him an unscheduled crushing tumble.
Filthy's distant cry of: "Don't follow us, we'll be back as soon as we can!" was a little unnecessary. Maybe, when Randolph was still a spry wee thing, entertaining circus-goers with unbelievable feats of acrobatics in the big top, he might've been able to keep pace with the suddenly nimble Rich clan.
Fifty or sixty years ago, but not now. And it was as the butler straightened his aching back, and winced in pain as his dodgy hip popped into place, that for the very first time he began to ponder the benefits of late retirement.
Not that he ever would take it, of course.